ADSUM
by soheil solitarius
Summary: SPOILERS; AU : When an attempt on the Emperor's life is made, Xelha finds herself back in the Empire and discovering just how much one man can suffer. The burden of grief is a heavy one, but it can be shared — and Xelha is good at heavy lifting.
1. Prologue

{ A/N: hello, dear readers!

... do any of you even remember me? PROBABLY NOT. well, i am katana. sup. and now that we are (re)acquainted: does anyone remember that story i started and subsequently abandoned like two years ago called THE AFTERMATH? because this is a re-write of it that, uh. does not resemble it very much, as you will hopefully notice. which is good, i think! as this version will have an actual plot and will actually be well written, if all goes well. isn't that excellent? yes, it is.

also, for those who are not familiar with pretentious latin phrases: the title of this fic is ADSUM, meaning something like "i'm here/present." i decided to CAPSLOCK it up because it just seems very... geldoblamey. it's like he's saying "HERE'S WHAT'S UP: I AM THE MAIN CHARACTER. ME. _ADSUM,_ YOU SMELLY PEASANTS." so obviously his presence is kind of a huge aspect of this fic, hurrr. (sorry, bros that hate geldoblame!) i'm sorry in advance if the latin capslock makes me look like a douche, though. :(

so, in terms of this chapter, i as a writer am much more concerned with the fact that i have basically retconned quite a bit of the interior decoration of the imperial palace rather than with the fact that the beginning of this whole thing... well. let us just say that it is really not the most awesome situation for xelha. uhhhhh. please do not hate me, dear readers i promise i will be nicer to her soon ;_;

well, i think that is enough tl;dr for now! i promise i won't be so wordy next time. please enjoy the chapter! }

**ADSUM  
_prologue_  
**

. . .

_A little stealing is a dangerous part,  
But stealing largely is a noble art._

. . .

She crept slowly through the heavy machina doors as they parted, hoping the noise wouldn't wake the room's occupant. The maids had told her that he was a notoriously light sleeper, and she was desperately trying to avoid any confrontations.

Peering into the darkened quarters of the emperor, Xelha managed to discern his sleeping form from behind the sheer curtains pulled in front of the bed in the back of the room. She tiptoed further in, stopping in front of the cosmetic-littered table beside the bed. Her heart thundered in her throat as she pulled one drawer open, then another, and another.

... nothing. Nothing but makeup and garbage.

She was acutely aware of her proximity to the sleeping, easily enraged man about three times her size who she was currently attempting to steal from. She shuddered and slowly inched the last drawer open. Yet again, nothing. She was beginning to really regret this excursion.

And then the squeal of mattress springs were echoing in her ears, and she froze. Before she knew it, he was looming over her from behind.

"And what, pray tell," he whispered, his voice raspy from lack of use, "do you think you are doing, girl?"

Xelha tried to keep herself from shaking as she, as aloofly as she possibly could, plucked a small pot from the table and placed it in the gaping drawer. "I am tidying the dwellings of His Magnificence," she managed to croak, though she realized that she had not in fact brought any cleaning supplies with her. She hoped desperately that this would go unnoticed as her fingers closed uncertainly around a stick of kohl. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he bent and gripped her hand in his, pinching her fingers lightly. She dropped it. He took her other hand and guided the drawers closed with it, his every breath ghosting over her skin. His bulky chest rose and fell against her back. She wanted to scream.

After everything was suitably replaced to his liking, he pulled away from her and took a step back. She turned slowly around to face him, trying to compose herself. He sneered down at her as she flushed and tried to avert her eyes from the space where his sleeping robe gaped, but the glinting of a piece of jewelry at the base of his throat drew her eyes again, and she nearly gasped. She wondered to herself if she would be able to rip it off and run before one of his soldiers caught her. She wondered if she would even be able to reach for it without him instinctively crushing her hand.

"Dear me," he murmured monotonically, looking boredly down at himself and quirking a brow. "My modest soul is aching with embarrassment, I assure you." He pulled his robe closed. "But even if you do happen to find something about my form quite appealing - which I have inferred from your incessant gawking - I am not in the slightest inclined to indulge you."

Xelha sputtered, trying to think of a respectful response, but he cut her off.

"Get out of my sight," he said, scowling deeply, no longer simply teasing her. "You are not to come into this room and senselessly paw through my belongings without express permission from me, and I will see that you - as well as all of your idiotic maid consorts - receive proper punishment for your wanton disregard of even the most basic of guidelines."

She continued to stutter and mumble, attempting to cobble together an apology as, in the corner of her eye, the pendant still glittered ever so slightly from beneath his robe.

"Did you not understand me? Do I need to forcibly escort you out?" He growled, lunging toward her like a cat about to pounce, and Xelha felt herself spring back and stumble out of the room instinctively, remembering the feeling of his body pressed against hers. She felt ill.

As the doors closed sharply behind her and the sound of his laughter echoed in the hall, she doubled over and tried not to cry.

. . .

"Damnable servants!" he growled as he slammed a hand down on his dressing table, sending various cosmetics flying. "This behavior is unacceptable." He turned to the startled guards that he had called into his chambers. "Have more guards posted at my quarters, and see that the maids are punished."

"They're just women, my lord," one man protested feebly, "I don't think-"

"They are scheming harlots, my dear boy," Geldoblame corrected gently, taking a calculated few steps toward the young guard. "Now, you." He grinned. "You are loyal to your Emperor, are you not?"

The guard's eyes widened rather considerably as he nodded.

"And," he murmured, reaching out gripping the boy's jaw gently, "Did I ever give you permission to question my workings?"

"N-no," the guard managed to squeak. "Never, Your Magnificence!"

Geldoblame's eyes narrowed and he gave the boy's jaw a hard, painful squeeze before shoving him away. "Then do close your pretty mouth, or I'm afraid I will have to find a ... better use for it. Goodness knows your blubbering won't get you anywhere in _my_ empire."

The guard nodded mutely as he stumbled backward, and Geldoblame was quite satisfied with his servant-abuse quota for the day. He chuckled to himself, then scanned over the room. He glowered at the motley arrangement of soldiers. "_Well?_"

They scattered.

. . .

_I failed ... how will I ever recover the pendant now?_

Xelha wished she could bury her head in her hands and just cry for a minute, but she was too busy dusting to properly feel sorry for herself. Obviously no one could know of her plans, and even if she had the terrible sense to tell anyone, the other maids would likely have no sympathy for her plight - she'd gotten them all punished with her actions, and she truly did feel bad.

But the pendant was what was important, not the forging of friendships that would be impossible to keep. Despite the fact that she did not quite know the significance of the pendant, she was completely certain that Geldoblame was the last man in the world who should have it around his neck.

_"I want those Magnus," she had heard him say one evening; he stood with a bizarre-looking, blue-skinned young man in the doorway of his quarters, looking severe yet delighted, "and you may think it an unattainable goal, but look - " he gestured to the lavalliere around his neck " - this, this little jewel here is a boon to my cause, and it will prove invaluable to me soon enough."_

_The young man nodded. "So you'll have 'em soon, then?"_

_"Yes," Geldoblame breathed, his eyes alight. "I will have the End Magnus."  
_

She laid her feather duster down momentarily and rubbed her eyes. She needed to get that pendant. She just did. Who knew how Geldoblame could lay waste to the world if he carried out his plans? Xelha shuddered very slightly at the ideas of all the feverish apocalypses he could potentially be capable of before she heard one of the older maids click her tongue disapprovingly at her laziness. Xelha shook her head as if to dispel her morbid thoughts, picked up her feather duster, and tried to concentrate on her dusting.

. . .

Geldoblame mused about how lovely hot baths were as he dutifully polished off a bottle or so of wine. They were such a relief on the joints... but perhaps that was also the doing of the alcohol. It didn't truly matter much to him, though - either way, he felt actually rather relaxed, which was a welcome sensation. Seldom did he ever truly relax, though he did like to keep up the appearance of always being at ease. As the emperor, it would never do to show weakness. Laughing softly to himself, he wished he had someone to share such a liberating experience with ...

His rather tantalizing thoughts were interrupted by what sounded suspiciously like a crash in the distant hallway leading to his chambers. He listened intently for a moment, but sensing no imminent disaster despite the sounds of squabbling from the guards, he allowed himself to sink back into the comfort of the hot water.

This, as it turned out, proved to be a rather unwise decision with regard to his various diabolical, End Magnus-related plans.

. . .

Xelha was dusting again. It had been nearly three weeks, and she was still dusting. She had been knighted the official duster of the imperial palace, it seemed - probably because it was the least enjoyable task for the maids and they had deemed that she certainly deserved to have to do it all after the fiasco she had caused earlier that month.

Midway through her job, dusting the various decorative whatnots in the hallway between Geldoblame's chambers and the elevators, she noticed that the guards at his doors were beginning to slack off a bit - which was probably why she was even allowed anywhere near the area in the first place, she realized. One leaned to the side of the doors, clearly uninterested in whatever he was supposed to be doing, and the other was actually sitting on the floor, seemingly catching a few z's on the job. Xelha contemplated on the matter for a moment, then decided to do something very honorable for the emperor: she decided to keep his silly guards on their toes. For a long while she pretended to be working fastidiously, waiting for a patrolling guard to saunter disinterestedly by.

And then she tripped him.

He went careening into a collection of terribly fragile - and sinfully ugly - vases, dashing them all to the floor and shattering every last one. While the others stumbled over to him, the one that had been leaning on the doorframe accidentally triggering the doors to Geldoblame's chambers, Xelha snuck in as inconspicuously as she could.

As the doors closed sinisterly behind her for the third time in a month, Xelha felt her stomach flipflop violently. Her heart was beating fast. She scoured the darkened room for the familiar glint of the pendant. Once again, she could not find it. Then she noticed a strip of light coming from the ajar door of an adjacent room - he must have been bathing. Xelha sighed as loudly as she dared before slinking over to the door and peeping in.

She was met with an eyeful of barely-clothed, towel-clad emperor, which she absolutely could have lived without ever seeing. She hurled herself away from the door and crouched behind the oversized dressing table along the wall. Her clever disguise was foiled, however, when Geldoblame flicked on the lights and lumbered out into the middle of the room, staring directly at her.

"Ah, I thought I heard a little mouse scampering around in here. I should have guessed it would be you." He sneered. "'Cleaning' again, hmm?"

Xelha squeaked.

"Well now, you truly are a mouse! Perhaps I should set up a trap." He leaned down, glaring at her maliciously as he offered a hand, presumably with which to help her up. He had slipped the pendant back on - or had perhaps never taken it off - when he came out, and now it was dangling inches from Xelha's face. She froze, knowing he was about to strangle her or slap her or tear her hair out with the proffered hand if she so much as lifted one of her own.

And then she took a deep breath, reached up anyway, and ripped the pendant from around Geldoblame's throat.

He let out a scream of rage and confusion and struck out at her with a meaty fist, but she was already up, already running, slamming her shoulder into the button on the wall that would open the doors and praying that the guards hadn't sealed it. She glanced back at Geldoblame and tumbled through the doors as he lunged for her throat.

She dashed to the elevators, throwing their doors open as well and mashing the button for the ground floor as Geldoblame screamed at his incompetent guards to catch her get her _kill her!_ and when the elevator dropped she felt like she was going to faint.

As the doors opened again, she launched herself from the little enclosure and started off running again, down the narrow halls and finally into the entrance hall and then the guards were back on her, shouting and readying their guns.

Xelha threw herself through the doors and spread her wings, leaping away and out of sight - and then she landed hard, and kept running as fast as she could.

. . .

Her legs and lungs burned as she clutched the innocent-looking little pendant to her chest, searching desperately for a place to hide. She really hadn't wanted to have to run like this - she had never been very good at it in the first place and her lungs were not the most spacious in the world to begin with, either. But what had she expected? She should have known it would have come to something like this - something dangerous and painful - but it would be even worse if she were to give up and collapse right there in the street.

Forcing her legs to keep moving, her lungs to keep wheezing, she fled down a narrow alley between a few buildings and dove beneath a broken down pod, stowing the pendant hastily in her undershirt. Knowing it was there, safe and sound, feeling its coolness against her sweaty skin, was somehow comforting. Panting, Xelha tried to regain her breath as the heavy, plodding footsteps of the guards somehow passed her by.

Slowly, she inched her way out from behind the pod and began her retreat again.

. . .

When she finally managed to find a liner out of Alfard, she was almost refused by its skipper.

"There's a fugitive on the loose, missy!" he hissed, trying to shove her back into the port. "I can't be takin' you outta here so easy if it might get me thrown in the slammer, y'know!"

Xelha blinked back the furious tears in her eyes and rooted around in her sash for a moment, struggling against the skipper's grasp on her shoulders. "Wait!" she cried pleadingly, wrenching herself out of his grip and whirling around. "I have money!" She thrust a bag of at least a thousand gold into his hands and watched his beady eyes widen.

"Well..." he muttered, greedily plucking the bag open and examining the coins, "I suppose money is money... an this looks like it'd be enough to bail me out if y'_did_ get me locked up, so..."

Xelha repressed the urge to stop her foot impatiently as she waited for the sleazy skipper's decision.

Finally, he nodded, grinning lewdly. "Welcome aboard, missy!"

Xelha breathed a sigh of relief, running her hands through her sweaty hair.

"Next stop, Pherkad!"


	2. Chapter 1

{ **A**/**N**: hello, dear readers! this chapter is kind of "meh" as i am rather terrible at beginnings, but i do believe that it will get less bad very soon, because very soon there will be EVEN MOAR GELDOBLAME. y-YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY? }

**ADSUM**  
**_chapter one_**

. . .

_"It must be said that a ruler who arouses opponents to resort to assassination is probably not as smart as he ought to be."  
~_ Barbara W. Tuchman

_"Assassination's the fastest way."_  
~ Moliere

. . .

A deep, piercing headache blooming in his temples roused the Emperor from the last sufficiently peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks.  
Heavy, hissing machina gas drifted waywardly into his quarters, the sunlight cutting deftly through it like a knife. Geldoblame grunted rather unceremoniously and laid an arm over his eyes. True, as the emperor, he was expected to have a fierce sense of nationalism, but Geldoblame also had a long history of keen and frequent impatience with his country's climate, especially considering the many unnecessary layers of clothing he wore on a day to day basis.

Five more minutes, perhaps ten, and then he would begin to prepare for yet another grueling day of having his intelligence insulted by some beastly foreign dunce or another. But perhaps he could find a pretty soldier or two to lessen his suffering. That was always a good idea. As a general rule, Geldoblame disliked suffering. However, even after much experience with his own, far superior soldiers, Geldoblame had come to realize that sadly, they were none too interesting when attempting to match their lord's formidable intellect, especially when their mouths could be doing far more useful things. It was far easier to simply make sure his boys simply didn't try and initiate any sort of small talk or the like with him. Luckily for them, they were all - for the most part - quite pretty, despite being equally dull and not at all engaging in terms of conversation. They were very engaging in terms of other actions, however. Very engaging indeed.  
Geldoblame allowed himself a brief moment of pride in his vastly superior, Imperial soldiers before the sun and his steadily growing headache continued to distract him from his vaguely titillating musings. No longer quite as enticed, he began to return to his normal spectrum of emotions, which tended to range from anywhere between rage and mild irritation. Today he was already beginning to feel particularly irked, a feeling which lay somewhere between peeved and annoyed on Geldoblame's rather stunted emotional meter.

He heaved himself up into a sitting position and grudgingly began to attempt to wake up. He was supposed to meet with Fadroh today about something - he couldn't for the life of him remember what, because Fadroh had sprung the idea on him rather last minute. He realized that he had no choice but to go, however, as he simply could not risk losing possible information about the End Magnus retrieval projects.  
Geldoblame sighed, thinking about his esteemed general. An admirable fighter, but if he started instilling his hairstyle on his regiments, Geldoblame was going to have to start forcing soldiers to shave their heads, and that would greatly lessen the fun he had pulling their hair when they were being uppity.

Geldoblame sighed yet again. It really was _so_ hard being such a good leader.

. . .

In the mansion of Duke Calbren and his slightly unsettling granddaughter, Xelha and her fine mishmash of comrades were discussing their impending trip to the Alfard Empire, which would no doubt be quite fun and not at all nervewracking or potentially fatal.

"So, we'll be setting off for Alfard next?" Xelha queried for the fifth or so time as she worried her lip, looking to each of her companions for approval. From the corner, the bird perched atop Mizuti's hat hummed complacently.

Kalas snorted, gazing across the room at Gibari. "Maybe we'll get to have another little chat with Geldoblame this time, huh?"

Gibari chuckled, his ears reddening. "Maybe I'll get to give him a piece of my, er," he patted his magnus fondly, "_mind_."

"Careful, you're liable to crack a paddle in half on him," Kalas said, fighting to keep a straight face as his Guardian Spirit tittered in a most mature manner. "Or get it stuck in something."

Both men stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Xelha frowned. "Kalas!" She admonished gently, "Don't you remember what the guards in Parnasse said? Melodia is a friend of Geldoblame's, so you can't go being disrespectful in her home like this!"

"That's right - we've no business making ourselves unwelcome in the homes of potential allies," Savyna offered coolly from the corner of the room, fixing Kalas with a pointed stare.

"Exactly," Lyude added. "We'll have to try to hold our tongues, especially in the empire."

Kalas made a face, scowling and propping his face up on a hand like a sullen little boy. "Shut up, Lyude."

Xelha sighed, sensing that it was once again time for her to mediate.

. . .

Geldoblame had expected to attend a private meeting, presumably about the remaining End Magnus, that afternoon. He had most certainly not expected to be doubled over on the floor leading to his meeting room in a pool of his own blood.

It seeped through his robes, dripping like warm, crimson rain to the ground as the sounds of retreating footsteps faded from behind him, leaving him to bleed to death. He snarled, trying vainly to staunch the bleeding and struggling to heave himself back onto his knees. "You will regret this," he hissed to his attacker, gripping the hilt of the blade in his side. "You ... will regret this."

The assailant turned back to his target, his face stern and reserved as he stared blankly at the wall, cocking his gun.

The crack of a gunshot exploded in the emptiness of the darkened hallway, and Geldoblame slumped to the floor in a splatter of blood, listening once again to the vague sounds of retreating footsteps as he slipped into unconsciousness.

. . .

When the poor maid stepped out of the cramped elevator to the fifth floor, the last thing she had expected to see was a dying man. He was face down in a pooling puddle of blood, shaking horribly and choking on the hot, dry air he so desperately sucked into his lungs. The maid knelt down shakily, her hands pressed tightly to her mouth to hold in a scream. And then he looked up at her with bloodshot, dazed eyes and she just couldn't hold it in any longer. She screamed and screamed and screamed for help because this was not some idiot guard that had shot himself in the foot, this was _the Emperor_bleeding out on the floor and oh gods, how could this even happen -

The elevator doors opened for a second time as a short and rather squat, bespectacled woman and her riding companions, mostly soldiers or medics like herself, bustled out into the hall where the maid was sobbing frantically into her apron.

"I-I didn't know what to do... I..."

"He must be tended to immediately," the woman interrupted, pushing her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. "Turn him onto his back."

The maid wiped at her eyes and looked in puzzlement at the short woman as she knelt down beside the bloody emperor and felt his wrist for its weak pulse. She seemed somehow familiar. The others knelt with her, and began pulling at his robes and pulling tools from the packs on their hips.

They worked quietly, occasionally whispering amongst themselves, ignoring the sniffling maid who sometimes leaned over their bent heads to get a better look.

There was a knife in his side and two leaking bullet wounds - one in his arm, and one in his fleshy stomach. The medics were working first and foremost on extracting the bullets before even taking their healing magnus out. The quiet clink of a bullet on the metal floor and the tearing sound of stripping cloth to bandage an arm with seemed to signify some success. The severe-looking woman seemed to notice the maid from the corner of her eye after a moment. "What are you doing?" She hissed, motioning impatiently. "Get away from here, you little snoop."

Two soldiers escorted the maid away, where she sat down slowly against the side of the elevator and waited, brushing tears from her cheeks every so often and trying not to think about what would happen if they couldn't save him.

. . .

Reluctant to jostle Geldoblame, a group of soldiers had been assigned the task of carrying him back to his quarters, which, for obvious reasons, was really quite difficult. The doors were heavily guarded. Medics and hospital workers arriving from Mintaka swarmed among groups of guards outside.

Inside, an aging man leaned over the bloodstained bed of the unconscious emperor. "It looks like an assassination attempt."

"Yes, we've figured as much," his companion shot back, tossing her hair; "one tends to draw such wild conclusions when the leader of a continent has a knife lodged in his ribcage."

The man snorted. "Learn to hold your tongue, you wench," he warned. "This is a tremendously serious occasion, and I did not bring an entourage up from the city to be sassed by some lowly medic. His Magnificence is not likely to appreciate your mouth either."

"And why should I care about what he thinks of me?" She asked incredulously, giving her glasses a shove.

"Because you are in charge of his recovery."

"_What?_"

"Let me explain this to you," the man began, as if speaking to a child. "You see, usually the medical professional who took upon the duty of saving a patient's life is the one to monitor them afterward."

"Yes, but a medical professional that has undergone life-saving duties usually receives some amount of respect or gratefulness for their work. I doubt I will be receiving much more than a defamatory remark about my reproductive organs." The medic countered, scowling.

"The exchange will hopefully be a fine exercise in silence for you, then."

The medic sighed, wondering how severely she would be punished in the event that the emperor ever received a hefty punch in the face.

. . .

"He seems to be coming to."

"Ah! What a shame."

"_Slience!_"

Geldoblame opened his eyes laboriously. His head ached and throbbed once again; there was an uncomfortable, suffocating tightness in his chest. A crowd was gathered around him like a beast watching the last death-twitches of its prey.

"Stand back! Stand back, you scum! His Magnificence awakens!" A rather crazed-looking man cried. "Give our glorious emperor room to breathe, please!" He turned to Geldoblame, bowing so low that he disappeared below Geldoblame's line of vision, which was impressive considering how low to the ground he already was. "Are you quite all right, Your Magnificence?" He continued, somewhat muffled due to his face being inches from the floor. No one seemed entirely sure of whether or not this man was a medical professional; wearing a white coat certainly could be deceiving. The man continued to mumble reverently into the floor.

Geldoblame grunted.

"Why yes," a considerably younger, more handsome man said brightly, "'urgh' to you as well, my liege."

The old man straightened hastily and glared at the younger man, who simply rolled his eyes. "I am simply greeting our emperor, my friend!" The young man cried incredulously, a playful light in his eyes. "You wouldn't dare to disrespect His... Respectableness, would you, sir? I know I wouldn't."

Normally, His Respectableness would have considered the pretty little thing's behavior as a sort of challenge and arranged to have him dragged off to his quarters for a good lesson in... partiotism, but upon realizing he, regrettably, no longer seemed to possess the mobility required for such a task, Geldoblame simply grunted again.

"Oh, dear." The young man chuckled disdainfully, raising an eyebrow. "Shall I fetch a bedpan?"

The man rounded on him. "That's it!" He cried. "Out! Get out! Everybody out!"

As most of the crowd trudged grudgingly out, the double doors suddenly flew back open and a scowling, perpetually annoyed-looking, bespectacled woman in a medic uniform careened in, inadvertently clotheslining one of the unfortunate stragglers. "Sir!" She cried, turning to the old man. "You are _not_a doctor! Shoo! Get out! Who let him in here?" She pursed her lips and briskly smoothed her skirt, presumably looking for someone to yell at.

"Can't you see that I'm having an audience with the emperor?" The old man yelled, running his hands through his thinning hair.

The man who had been hit by the door looked up dizzily. "You must really want to get arrested ..." he murmured, blinking vigorously.

"Fine. Fine!" And with that, the old man dashed out of the room, waving his hands around and yelling exasperatedly as he went.

The woman waited for him to disappear completely before looking sheepishly down at the man she had knocked over. "Terribly sorry," she began, not quite convincingly. "It was rather urgent, though. Are you quite alright?"

"It's fine," he replied meekly. "Uh..." He touched a hand to his ribs dazedly. "You wouldn't happen to have a suture kit on you?"

"... Not at the moment, no."

Geldoblame cleared his throat loudly, making both jump.

"I'll..." The battered man said quietly, "I'll just ... be going, then." And he scuttled awkwardly from the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

The medic decided that scuttling off seemed like a particularly attractive option, and followed him out.

. . .

It was not a good day in the Empire. The medic stood by the doors of the emperor's quarters, looking somehow more surly than usual as crowds bustled around her. Polishing her spectacles listlessly, she caught bits and pieces of conversations as they floated by, all about the currently unfolding tragedy.

"Don't you remember twenty years ago?"

"Two assassinations in a year!"

"Why are all of our emperors always getting stabbed?"

The young, rather handsome, and sinfully irritating young man from before suddenly came weaving his way through the crowd, stopping in front of the medic.

"Why hello, Miss Ba'nee!" He said cheerily, tossing her a little salute. His cheer was a bit awkward considering the circumstances, but Ba'nee knew that it wasn't unusual for citizens to celebrate in such times. She herself probably would have been just as chipper as he was, had she not managed to get herself quite so embroiled in the conflict.

"I trust you have had a lovely time medic-ing toda-"

"You. Man-nurse. Have you been causing a fuss?"

"I could ask you the same. If I'm not mistaken, you fussed everything up beating that poor guy to death with the door."

"It's not as if I meant to hit him; I didn't even see him." Ba'nee chuckled despite herself. "It was a fine smackdown, though. Perhaps I should consider pursuing a career of street-fighting."

Man-nurse laughed. "I'm sure you'd be formidable."

"I do have a suggestion for you, though," Ba'nee said quickly, her face once again stony and severe. "Do not go letting mentally off civvies into the emperor's ward again. It is not amusing when we are all potentially punished for your idiotic whims - so do stop giggling to yourself about it." She glared at him. "Luckily, I do not think the Emperor will have too much to say about it, as he probably will not remember it by the next time he's fully conscious."

Man-nurse laughed again. "How_ is_the Emperor?"

Ba'nee pursed her lips, thinking. "He doesn't look good."

"Tell me about it."

"Shh! We're easily heard here, you know, and I don't need more trouble on my hands because of you!" Ba'nee prodded Man-nurse accusingly in the chest. "But... he looked like he was ready to pass out again when I walked -"

"- careened, with gazelle-like agility and disregard for other human lives -"

"... in. And I already said that I had no real intention of giving anybody the beat down. The occurrence was completely out of my hands! Now, if you'll excuse me, tonight is the night that I get to go home and get an actual night of sleep." With that, Ba'nee turned brusquely to leave.

"Good luck with that!" Man-nurse said cheerfully. "But don't forget about tomorrow; I hear you're conferencing with His Corpulence tomorrow!"

Ba'nee started. "... Did you truly, honestly feel it your duty to remind me?"

"Oh, _absolutely._"

Once again, faces were dangerously close to being punched.


	3. Chapter 2

{ A/N: hello, dear reader...s? hurrrr. i would just like to say that yes, this is yet again not the most action packed chapter. it is also not as long as usual. in general, i guess it is not my best so far. so it will probably be getting edited a lot! :c however! THIS IS THE CHAPTER YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR: GELDOBLAME FINALLY HAS LESS CHINS. also, melodia/italics otp. also also, where did you come from, 2011? happy LATEST NEW YEAR EVER guys derp derp derp }

**ADSUM**  
_**chapter two**_

. . .

_Black clouds and battleships_  
_are covering the sky._  
_The sky a purple cry,_  
_a philharmonic sigh._

Oren Lavie - Blue Smile

. . .

"Uh... good - good evening, Your Magnificence. Um. My name is Nadir Kale, and, uh - "

From the hospital bed he had been recently relocated to, Geldoblame shot Nadir Kale a look that clearly suggested the importance of either Shutting Up or Saying Words.

"'mheret'askyouaboutth'assassinationattempt!"

The Emperor was decidedly unimpressed with Nadir Kale's conversational skills. He was, however, quite impressed with the results of a certain surgery he had had performed to remove a bit of unwantedness from his person. He had figured it a fine investment, as with all of the other vaguely surgical procedures he had already endured, he had no real qualms with enduring another. Medical science was truly such a wonder.

Nadir tried to gather his thoughts as he witnessed what was no doubt Geldoblame's private elation at being able to almost see his toes for the first time in years. "Um." He said most intellectually, "The - the knife that was, er, recovered from your, uh. Person. Was, erm, most likely belonging to an Imperial General, and - "

Geldoblame snapped out of his reverie. "A general," he breathed, his hands balling into fists, his ragged fingernails digging into his palms. "That weasel, Fadroh!" He looked severely up at the soldier. "It could not be anyone else. Investigate him."

"Uh..."

"Investigate him, I said!" Geldoblame howled, slamming his fist down on the bedside table. "Lock him up! Do something!"

Nadir jumped, looking shaken. "My lord, we - we can't!" He managed to stutter, taking a few precautionary - and not particularly inconspicuous - steps toward the door.

"Why not?" The Emperor shot back, heaving himself into a sitting position. He was growing steadily more irritated with every passing moment, and in addition to all of his other assorted pains, yet another headache was blooming in his already terribly abused head.

For once, Nadir neglected to start a sentence with 'um.' "We can't find him!" He cried, flinching as Geldoblame bared his teeth. "He's gone!"

Geldoblame's hands flew up and fluttered like horrifyingly angry birds about his head in what Nadir took to be a small, rage induced seizure. Nadir took a few more hasty steps back, eventually bumping into the door and startling the both of them. Geldoblame looked up at him and managed to blow past his incomprehensibility by shrieking most colorfully for Nadir to leave. Nadir did not need telling twice, and veritably threw himself from the room, only to be greeted by the scowling face of a particularly sour-looking medic. She gave him a look that made him shrink back from the door, before she herself threw it open and strode inside. About five minutes later, there was quite a bit of screaming out of the Emperor. Nadir cracked the door open and peered in.

"We simply cannot allow your discharge, Your Magnificence," the medic was explaining, looking exasperated. "You are not fully healed, and -"

Geldoblame shouted something at her that Nadir did not understand. It might have been some ancient curse word, he mused, a testament to the Emperor's vast cultural knowledge, but in actuality it probably was not a word at all. It sounded somewhat like he was gargling pure, liquefied rage rather than actually saying words.

Nadir had always been told that the Emperor was remarkably composed and well-spoken, but such a description seemed a little off-base now.

It occurred to Nadir that he may have accidentally driven Geldoblame just a little insane.

. . .

Duke Calbren's mansion was positively bustling.

"Grandfather! Oh, _Grandfather_," Melodia was nearly weeping as she conversed loudly with the Duke in his study, "I _must_ travel to Alfard immediately!" She had been uncharacteristically excitable and high-strung ever since they had received the news of the Emperor's assault. Xelha watched passively from the sidelines, listening to the group talking amongst themselves about the incident. Kalas kept sulking about how it wouldn't be worth it to kill a man who was already dying, Savyna tirelessly reminding him not to underestimate Geldoblame's willpower. Xelha shared her concerns. She wrung her hands behind her back, trying not to let her fidgeting be noticed, but it was not as easy as she had hoped. She just couldn't help herself - she was terrified of returning to the empire, and after what had happened there, had anyone known the details they wouldn't have blamed her.

Melodia scurried from the Duke's study to meet them, her eyes wide and watering. She stopped in front of Kalas, inclining her head slightly. "From our discussions earlier, I've been made aware of your need to travel to the Empire, but it seems that the port has been closed off to visiting ships for the moment." Kalas groaned. "Please," Melodia cried; "do not despair! I can still ferry you in my ship - I am a most trusted friend of Geldoblame's, you may have heard, and he would never give his soldiers grounds to trouble me." She lowered her eyes, suddenly, as though she were ashamed, and looked up at Kalas through her lashes. "But... I think it may be appropriate to take advantage of his trust, just this once."

Everyone thanked her profusely, Kalas in particular showing his gratitude with a remarkable series of airborne fistpumps, and she waved them off with a smile. "It is the _least_ I can do, the very least!" She said sweetly, as she began to make her way to her room. "Please, my friends, get plenty of rest. We away tomorrow."

. . .

Xelha's hands were shaking as she boarded Melodia's ship.

"Finally!" Kalas shouted, stretching his arms and clapping Gibari jovially on the shoulder. "It's about time we set out for that imperial dump, eh?" Gibari chuckled.

Xelha's hands continued to shake. She busied them with shuffling through her magnus, looking up every once in a while to smile at everyone and try to seem at ease. She had an easy enough time fooling Kalas, who was terrible at reading even the most obvious of emotions to begin with, and Gibari, who was actually very interested in sorting his magnus at the time - perhaps he was worried, as well. Lyude watched timidly from the corner, occasionally stealing rather concerned-looking glances at Xelha. He seemed perturbed, and could probably sense that she was, as well. She smiled at him, trying to diffuse whatever worries he might have had, but when he realized that she had noticed him, he immediately averted his eyes and likely sprained his neck turning away and attempting to act aloof. Xelha giggled and continued observing the group.

Mizuti was her regular whimsical self, meditating in midair by a window and watching as the clouds passed. Xelha tried to follow suit, wishing she could be so carefree as she gazed disinterestedly at the clouds, but still couldn't keep her traitorous hands from trembling. She jumped when the seat by her was suddenly taken, and she found herself face to face with Savyna.

"You're shaking," Savyna said simply.

"I..." Xelha stumbled, "I ... I'm a little chilly, that's all!"

Savyna raised an eyebrow and began to stand up, as if to say, _Have it your way, then_.

" ... alright!" Xelha wheezed, "Okay! I'm... worried. Aren't you?"

Savyna sat back down, crossing her legs. "No."

"But aren't you from the empire?"

"Yes."

"Then..."

"Geldoblame does not frighten me," Savyna said, and Xelha detected a harsh note in her voice. "His soldiers do not frighten me. His machina do not frighten me." She looked back at Xelha. "And I am confident that, if we do end up battling those forces, we will at least have some advantage in the matter."

It occurred to Xelha that those were more words than she had ever heard Savyna say to her. "So..." she said quietly, "confidence is our greatest weapon?"

Savyna shook her head. "Evasiveness," she corrected. "The Empire has no patience for confidence - and overconfidence only leads to sorrow, no matter your opponent. But so far," she continued, "we have evaded even their top soldiers - Giacomo, Ayme, Folon. We have escaped his wrath with our lives, and as much as I hate to advocate 'taking chances' in battle, we'll have to hope that we will able to do it again."

Xelha nodded. "I think I understand."

The women were silent for a long time, watching the others. No - Xelha watched, thinking fondly to herself about how boyish Kalas could be sometimes and wishing he would be a little nicer to poor Lyude, and Savyna stared distantly, thinking of liberation and death and hatred and assassination. Then she stood up again. She turned to the other girl once more, and whispered, "Know this, Xelha: he is just as scared as you are."

Xelha thought of blue hair and tanned skin and wild eyes.

Savyna thought of red hot fire and red-stained sand and bright red lipstick and red, red, red blood pooling around her feet.

. . .

Geldoblame's hands were shaking as he heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled precariously, steadying himself against a wall. The pain was considerably more intense than he had expected, but he was not about to entertain the idea of saying such a thing aloud.

"I wouldn't suggest such activity, Your Magnificence," Ba'nee muttered impassively from the doorway as she watched the self-proclaimed most powerful man in the world stumble around like a toddler. Were it not so funny, and were he not so insufferable, she would have been a little embarrassed for him.

"Shut up," His Magnificence retorted as he took an uncomfortable step or two toward her, jabbing a finger into her face. Such an action was far less threatening when he was not wearing gauntlets made for eye-gouging, however. "You do not suggest anything to me. I am the Emperor; you are a strumpet. Hence, there will be no suggestions." He waved an arm impatiently for her to get out of the way and, straightening as much as his aching, heavily bandaged body would allow, he hobbled from the room. He did not get very far before a crowd of attendants ambushed him and ushered him back to his room. He managed to slap a few in the head before grudgingly returning to the confines of the sterile room, which was at least something, but he was beginning to sorely miss the presence of his gauntlets.

"On the bright side," Ba'nee offered, trying to keep her lips from twitching into a smirk, "you _do_ have a visitor."

Geldoblame was about ready to tear off his own scalp when Folon traipsed into the room.

"Your Magnificence!" He greeted cheerily, swinging his whip haphazardly about. "How are you on this fine morning?"

"Unbelievably marvelous, if I may say so," Geldoblame growled. "In fact, I believe a few of my stitches may have even ripped out, just to brighten my day."

"Blood always has been the best lubricant," Folon said, nodding sagely.

Geldoblame heaved a sigh. He could not possibly stay mad at such lovely inappropriateness. "What do you want?"

"Giacomo sent me to get your permission for us to hop on the Godolba. Patroling and whatnot."

Geldoblame snarled. "Has he forgotten that he already has it? This forgetfulness of his is inexcusable. He's been failing me consistently now; it is unlike him."

"Perhaps he has some ulterior motive!"

"Do not test me, Folon."

Folon shrugged, baring his teeth in a grin. "Just playing. Giacomo has no need to betray you, anyway. Look at all those delicious favors you've done him over the years! Case in point: me."

"Yes, yes, I am sure the two of you are ever the best of friends." Geldoblame snorted. "Have you any other business, or have you just come to piss all over the already damp and stained mattress that is my day?"

Folon grimaced, wrinkling his nose. "Your unsettling metaphors and kind of off-base today, My Liege. But shouldn't you be happy? You're looking quite... trim!"

Geldoblame placed a hand to his cheek coquettishly. "Truly?"

"Like a young maiden, Your Lordship. But with a considerably lessened bosom."

"... Had I the strength, I would shatter your cheekbone with the force of a thousand maidenly slaps."

Folon took a few hasty steps backward and tossed Geldoblame a halfhearted salute. "Well, I must away!"

"Good," Geldoblame growled. "Out of my sight."

. . .

No one had slept well.

Melodia's ship was beginning to near Alfard; the heat and turbulence made that abundantly apparent. But the sky had an eerie sense of emptiness to it. Melodia had mentioned that no one else would be allowed to dock in Mintaka's port, and that was certainly true. No one else was flying anywhere near the empire. The emptiness of the sky around the empire was nearly suffocating, in a strange way.

Before she knew it, Melodia's ship was docking, and Xelha pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling a sudden wave of nausea. She glanced around the ship. Everyone was ready, anxious, already starting for the exit.

Melodia made her way quietly, like a phantom, into the room, stopping in front of Kalas. "I'll be leaving, now." She said, smiling. "The troops are already clamoring outside, I'm afraid. When they have gone, you will be free to leave."

"I don't know how to thank you, Milady," Xelha said softly. "But... thank you."

Melodia beamed. "Thank _you_." She gave a little curtsy, before preparing to exit the ship. "And I will pray for your safety and success arduously - I promise you this."

They watched her go, and only when she had disappeared with an entourage into some Mintakan alley, far from view, did Xelha realized that she had been holding her breath. She released it with a shudder and blinked back the moisture in her eyes as she disembarked.

. . .

"He is recovering."

"I see."

"Will we strike again?"

"Oh, of course. But let him do what he pleases first."

"We will have to stay out of sight for two days or more."

"_You_ will have to say out of sight."

"... I understand."

"Do not fret - I'll find you again when the time comes."

"... I adore you."

"I know."


	4. Chapter 3

{ **A**/**N**: hello, dear readers! man! why does it take me forever to write anything? i need to get with the program, yo! anyway, this chapter is a foreshadowing of things to come! mostly me attempting to be able to write kalas. and also geldoblame raging. they are both very adept when it comes to raging, though. it's like a hidden talent, except it is pretty much the most plainly visible thing to ever exist. i mean, when geldoblame rages he rages with such force that his earrings radiate out from the sides of his big fat head like little... bejeweled beams of rage. or something. SUFFICE TO SAY HE IS PRETTY RAGEY. }

**ADSUM**  
_**chapter three**_

. . .

_I need someone to show_  
_A little kindness_;  
_If he can turn his head;_  
_A little blindness._

The Bird and the Bee — My Fair Lady

. . .

Savyna was tired.

She strode through the streets of Mintaka, looking passive and yet somehow oppressive wrapped in her usual blanketing silence. She sighed softly as she scuffed through the sandy streets, tailing the others and walking slowly even as her thoughts raced tirelessly through her head.

Geldoblame would be waiting for them. He would know that they were coming for his final End Magnus, and he would spring into action with hoards of soldiers.

That was what the others had assumed, at least. So far the only threat to them had been odd glances from passing Mintakans with regards to their obvious foreign looks and one particularly mouthy child. Savyna had expected this — he was a sneaky man, and if he wasn't dead he was doing all in his power to toy with them. And yet, despite her understanding of such vital tidbits of information as these, her fingers twitched every so often when a scowling soldier passed them by, somehow foolishly expecting him to shout and draw his weapons and drag them to the Fortress so they could lay paralyzed before the Emperor as he executed them. She silenced these thoughts deftly as they came — that would be foolish of him as a leader, foolish to disrupt the public and lose manpower, he wouldn't allow such a reckless act —

— _he wouldn't kill her_.

She tossed her hair, feeling the hot, dry air billow through it, blowing softly on the nape of her neck. She cracked her knuckles, letting the faint pain invigorate her. How ridiculous, to think that she held some sort of sentimental value to him. Of course he would kill her, or at least try.

Wouldn't he?

For she had begun a new life, rejecting him, and he would do all in his power to take that life away — if not by causing the death of her body, but by ending this new life she had set up so precariously and dragging her back into his hellish world.

Savyna's heart began to beat peculiarly in her chest, like a the wings of a frantic, terrified bird.

She could not allow that to happen.

. . .

Melodia sat quietly in the Emperor's quarters, only half-listening to him as he spoke. She was entirely lost in her thoughts, as she sometimes tended to be — and today they really were _terribly_ engrossing thoughts — until he said something particularly poignant.

"Have you, by any chance, seen our dear General since you've arrived?"

Melodia fluttered her eyelashes and tilted her head to one side, pretending to wrack her brain. "Why no," she lied, "I'm afraid not! I wonder where he has gone off to; it's so strange not to see him when I arrive at port..." She looked back up at Geldoblame, puzzled. "Is there a matter you'd like to discuss with him, Emperor?"

Geldoblame shook his head slightly, his faint smile beginning to turn sour. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, my darling."

Melodia smiled a sweet little smile and strode over to him, seating herself on the edge of the bed. She relished in the slight widening of his eyes and the light, uncertain touch of his hand on her back as she laid herself in his arms. "His Magnificence has no need to look so _solemn_," she lied again, burying her face in his shoulder and smiling as she felt him wince, "when he has been so _very_ blessed."

Geldoblame wheezed.

. . .

Xelha was tired, too.

Something felt amiss in Mintaka. She wondered if anyone else could feel it. Perhaps it was only her mind playing tricks on her, but she felt as though she were being watched, like every glance cast their way somehow knew that it was she who had stolen from the Emperor and now she was back for something more. Vaguely, she realized that that something would probably end up being his life. Her legs nearly gave out beneath her as a sudden wave of queasiness hit her. She didn't want to be responsible for something like that. She didn't think she could kill a human being. She couldn't kill a human being.

Could she?

. . .

Geldoblame was still trying to coax Melodia away from his wounds, but she didn't seem to be taking to the idea. She really was rather dense, he mused as he ineffectually plucked at her fingers where they laid over a hidden but still-healing bullet wound in his abdomen. "I've no doubt you've been informed that I've been injured," he managed to murmur through gritted teeth. She looked up at him, and the slight pressure from her hand shot through him so hard he thought he thought he was about to cry out, but he stifled the sound in his throat. It would have been terribly unbecoming.

"I have," she said in her sweet, saccharine voice, still holding fast against his wounds. "It really is so dreadful..." It was about then that Melodia noticed a sticky wetness on her palm and inspected it. "Oh dear!" Her eyes widened at the sight of fresh blood on her skin. "I'm so _sorry!_"

Geldoblame blinked and opened his mouth as if to say something, but all that came out was a wet cough. He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and leaned back in the bed, breathing harshly. Melodia straightened, looking down at him with what she hoped seemed like concern. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked, absently touching her bloodied hand to her already red lips.

He peered up at her with unfocused eyes, opened his mouth again, then fainted dead away. It was a most unbecoming display.

Melodia took time to lick the blood from her fingers before calling a medic.

. . .

Upon arriving in the Emperor's quarters with a medic, Nadir immediately noticed that Lady Melodia had a certain look to her that was really, really unnerving. It was just something about her eyes — they were so creepy and red and just sitting there glimmering dully in her white, white face. He hoped he wouldn't have to speak, because just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was bound to worsen his stutter.

"Soldier," the medic said suddenly, turning slightly toward him.

_Damn it_. "Uh. Y-yes?"

"Usher out Her Ladyship; find her guards and then return here."

Nadir crossed his fingers behind his back as he offered a hand to Melodia. She gave him a curious look before smiling a toothy little smile and taking it. She squeezed his fingers just a little too hard for comfort, but he lead her out all the same and left her with the guards she had arrived with. He listened with a strange sort of detachment to the loud thumping sounds his boots made as he walked back to the emperor's quarters, to the odd mechanical noises the doors made as they parted — country boy as he was, he didn't think he would ever get used to machina — and to his own shaky breathing.

"He's unconscious," Ba'nee murmured as he ambled up next to her. "I've cleaned and re-bandaged his wounds, though — he's healing well, aside from — "

"Do you think she did it?" Nadir suddenly blurted out. He felt the urge to clamp his hands over his mouth to prevent himself from saying anything else stupid, but he wasn't sure it would help.

Ba'nee shushed him harshly, grabbing his hands and giving them a shake. "Are you stupid? You would dare accuse Melodia of attacking the emperor while he's less than a foot from you?"

Nadir mouthed a lot of words that he couldn't quite manage to say. Finally he said, "W-well... I'm... pretty dumb."

"That certainly explains things." Ba'nee snorted. Nadir was keenly aware that she had not yet unhanded him. He found that didn't mind entirely.

"But..." he said, plucking up some measure of courage and giving her hands a tiny squeeze, "You're awful smart, so we, uh." He grinned sheepishly. "We make a pretty good team?"

Ba'nee gave him a long, distasteful look that almost made him pull away before letting her lips turn upward in a smile. "Perhaps we do at that," she murmured, taking a step toward him and leaning upward almost as if she, perhaps, meant to kiss him. Nadir balked.

"St-stop! What if he wakes up‽"

Ba'nee drew back and cuffed Nadir lightly on the shoulder. "I was screwing with you, you stooge."

"... Oh."

. . .

Kalas was about to keel over in the street. Or perhaps punch something.

He wanted so desperately to finally, finally claim his revenge. He thought about how it would feel to drive his blade right through Giacomo's belly. There would be something about killing him, he figured, that wouldn't be like killing any regular old monster, but he thought he could handle it. After all, who was going to judge him? He had suffered for years because of him. Who would blame him? Even if Geldoblame sent his soldiers after them, he would take them out, too. He wasn't about to let the Empire walk all over them any more. If they wanted to fight, he would fight. And he would win.

And if what Geldoblame wanted from them was a fight, too, Kalas would gladly give it to him. It would feel good to watch him die. It would feel great. There would be something about taking his life away from him that would be just like taking out another monster that had the bad sense to attack him, he figured. It would be like watching any other beast in its death throes. He'd watch him die, and then maybe he'd take a picture or two. They'd be sure to sell for a lot, at least. He heard the tired voice of his Guardian Spirit murmur softly that Geldoblame would never fight the six of them himself; there was no chance of it — it wasn't even cowardice, it was just good sense. Kalas snorted. "Who says he's fighting all of us?" he muttered under his breath, trying not to talk too loudly.

_You've been told by the other leaders themselves that Geldoblame is no fool. And if there was a fight, it wouldn't be a fair one. He has legions of soldiers and machina at his command. You know that, Kalas_.

"Well — "

—_ You won't seek him out without reason. It is not your way. Stop this nonsense, Kalas, and leave these thoughts buried._

"Kalas?"

Kalas started, nearly tripping over his own feet. He could have kicked himself; she had probably heard everything. Suddenly, the only thing he could think was _Damn it, damn it, damn it _—

"Um... Yeah, Xelha?"

"Are you ... " Xelha stared down at he feet as she walked, as if she were trying to search for her words there in the cracks between the cobblestones. "Are you angry about something, Kalas?"

Kalas snorted. "Of course I'm angry!" He nearly shouted. "Giacomo's out to kill us, Geldoblame's still alive and probably more pissed off than ever, and we're on their turf — does that answer your question?"

Distantly, he heard her gasp. Or maybe that had been Besnik.

_Kalas, she was just _—

"Just shut up!"

Kalas was dimly aware that Xelha had left his side. He felt sort of bad, but —

"Kalas!"

"Lyude," Kalas growled, ever exasperated, "will you just — "

"No," Lyude hissed suddenly, bristling, "I will not. That was — that was the least respectful I have ever seen you, and I have seen quite a bit of disrespect out of you in my time traveling with you." He ran a hand through his hair, stumbling over his words slightly as Kalas's hand flew down to his magnus suddenly. "I want — no — I _demand_ that you apologize to Xelha for your actions this instant!"

"Hey! You heard wrong, I — "

"That isn't necessary, Lyude," Xelha said meekly, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Please — "

"Sorry," Kalas growled abruptly.

"Huh?"

Kalas scuffed his feet along the street sullenly. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"No," Xelha said quietly, "I'm sorry... But thank you."

"Now shut up, Lyude. Don't act like you won or anything, or — "

"Hey!" Gibari shouted, "Kalas, Lyude, I'm gonna punch the both of you if you don't shape up! You're drawin' attention to us!"

"I agree," Savyna murmured from the rear of the group, nearly inaudible. "Perhaps with less friendly fire involved, but I agree with Gibari. Stop alerting our presence more than we already have done in coming here."

Kalas's face was hot and red with anger and embarrassment. "I — " he stuttered, "I didn't — "

"Stop fighting, stop fighting! The Great Mizuti will have none of this!"

Xelha skittered to the front of the group and held out her hands, open palmed and peaceful. She cast glances behind her as she stumbled backward and began to speak again. "Great Mizuti is right! We're tearing each other apart, when we need one another more than ever!"

_Oh, great,_ Kalas thought. _Another speech about the The Power of Friendship..._

. . .

Geldoblame awoke alone in his bed, and he was indeed more pissed off than ever. He even found it in him to throw a glass so hard at a guard that it shattered on the back of his helmet. The guard turned about with a yelp to face the emperor before shrinking back at the look on his face.

"Your — your Magnificence!"

Geldoblame snorted. "Where is Melodia?" he demanded, struggling to sit up.

"M-my Lord," the guard gasped, "please don't do that! You've only recently been... been, um. Recuperated, and — "

"Where is Melodia? Bring her to me!"

The guard twitched for a moment before scurrying from the room.

. . .

It was not long before Melodia had returned, with her hands clasped respectfully behind her back and a small, good-natured smile on her lovely face. "You sent for me, my lord Emperor?"

"Indeed I did," Geldoblame croaked. "Your company has been... _sorely_ missed."

"The Emperor makes a joke!" Melodia squealed, clapping her hands. "It is relieving to see him in good spirits again, despite his... soreness."

"Certainly, certainly." Geldoblame waved his hand noncommittally; Melodia knew how quickly he grew bored of niceties such as this. He could be a little moody sometimes, which always proved entertaining. "Melodia, I must take leave of you tomorrow, I'm afraid."

"So soon? I have only just come to visit you this morning, and yet you seek leave already?"

"It's not that I tire of your company, my darling." He paused to take a few shallow breaths, pressing a hand experimentally to his stomach. "But there is something I must attend to."

Melodia smiled her prettiest smile. "Yes, my Emperor, I understand. Would you like me to return to Mira, then?"

Geldoblame frowned. "Melodia, I _never_ want you to return to Mira. You may stay here in my Empire as long as you please, as always."

"Then would you like me to return to my room while you prepare for your duties?"

"No, no - that is not until tomorrow. As I've said, it is not as though I tire of you. In fact, you will stay here with me tonight; we will have tea like we always do, and you'll tell me about how your Grandfather is doing, and what terrifying antics that ... horrifying creature has been up to as of late... "

"Clairvoyant?"

"... Yes, that."

Melodia's smile widened. "And I suppose the Emperor will be asking me about my painting next, or my singing lessons, or what I had for supper a fortnight ago!"

"And why shouldn't I? You know how I am without your company, Melodia. Not seeing you simply _kills_ me." Geldoblame smiled his ugly smile up at her and gave a little laugh. "And you wouldn't want to kill the Emperor, would you?"

Melodia giggled. "Oh, what a _silly_ question."


	5. Chapter 4

{ **A**/**N**: hello, dear readers! i had planned for this chapter to be really intense but then i had to do more exposition lol. i am bad a writing interesting things. at least lyude gets to do what he does best this chapter, though: angst! yaaaaaaay! bask in his lamentation! revel in his sorrowful, emotive eyeball-secretions and rueful ululation, dear readers! (or, you know, don't. because that would be pretty weird.) }

**ADSUM**  
_**chapter four**_

. . .

_I've got so much trouble on my mind _  
_ that it feels if like I'm always _  
_ sleepin' with the enemy,_  
_ but I know the real world _  
_ always gets the last word in;_  
_ that's why I gotta kick reality._

New Thrash — Sublime

. . .

Geldoblame hissed softly in pain as he heaved himself to his feet, talking a few experimental steps in front of the windowed eastern wall of his chambers. He was most pleased with the outcome - he walked with little to no wobbliness, and the pain was receded to a dull, easily ignorable throbbing.

"Emperor," the short, blue-haired medic said from her post by the door, inclining her head in a small bow, "You are recovering most excellently."

"Don't patronize me, wench."

"As you wish." She smirked, he head still lowered. "But, Emperor, your recovery as of today is indeed satisfactory."

Yes, he concurred, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, he was certainly doing well.

"Get out," he ordered suddenly, waving a hand dismissively at the medic as she dipped into bow and backed quickly out of the room. Once she was gone, he drew the communicator from his belt and pressed a button.

"This is Giacomo."

"Where are you?" Geldoblame hissed.

Giacomo paused briefly to survey his surroundings. "Near the mountains; we are out of sight from Mintaka."

Geldoblame pursed his lips, frowning. "Can you see the port from where you are?"

"Barely. Is it a matter of importance to the emperor?"

"Of course it is," Geldoblame spat. "Get closer. I've heard Melodia's ship was spotted leaving, but neither she nor any of her guards could possibly be on it."

Giacomo fell silent. the Goldolba's powerful engines hummed faintly through the communicator.

"Well?" Geldoblame snapped, impatient.

Finally, Giacomo spoke. "Her ship is gone."

Geldoblame's free hand balled into a tight fist.

"It is circling lesser Mintaka, Emperor."

The engines continued humming for a long while as Geldoblame fell silent.

"Emperor — ?"

"Shoot it down."

"... is His Magnificence quite sure that is wise?"

"Do it."

"Emperor, may I propose another plan of action?"

"No."

"The Duke will not take well to this."

Geldoblame drummed his fingers restlessly against his hip and heaved an irate sigh. "You speak as if the dreary dolt would even notice."

Giacomo remained businesslike, on topic; he had come to find out that it was generally a bad idea to prolong Geldoblame's fits of contempt toward the other leaders, as he had a tendency to, almost without fail, turn on whomever he happened to be speaking with when in such moods. "I believe the both of us have a hunch as to just who is in that ship," Giacomo continued. "Wouldn't His Magnificence agree?"

"Hmph."

"Emperor, Kalas will surely be no match for us."

"Have you ever fought Lady Death, Giacomo?"

Giacomo chuckled. "You doubt the Chaotic Trio?"

Geldoblame snorted. "As of late, indeed I do. You've been failing me, Giacomo."

Giacomo faltered. "I vow to you, Your Graciousness... I will not fail you this time."

"That's good, Giacomo — because I will not fail to deliver severe punishments not only to you, but to your little henchmen as well, if you fail me again."

Geldoblame smiled as he heard Giacomo grit his teeth.

"... They have done nothing, to incur such wrath, Emperor," Giacomo hissed, trying to keep his voice level, indifferent.

"I don't like your tone," Geldoblame spat. "Besides, they have consistently followed your faulty orders. That is reason enough to penalize them. And," he continued, "I'm afraid you think I've gone soft, Giacomo. I simply can't have that — so would it not be prudent for me to remind you the power I possess?" It was very likely that Giacomo was about to crush the communicator in a rage-fueled, shaking fist, and Geldoblame relished in this fact. "Goodbye, Giacomo," he crooned sweetly, resisting the temptation to blow him a kiss through the comm. Chuckling, he closed the line abruptly and tossed the communicator away, letting it land with a muffled thump on his bed. Moving slowly, cautiously, he made his way to his dressing table, allowing himself to muse about what a fine mess the whole situation was becoming as he surveyed his most bullet-retardant outfitting options. Then again, he supposed, now was as good a time as any for what he had in mind — and it was certainly as good as it was going to get.

Today's was certainly going to be an eventful excursion.

. . .

"Damn, I can't believe we've been here for a whole day already," Kalas said through a mouthful of shish kebab. "Kind of weird the shopkeeper didn't care about weird foreigners resting at his place, though, what with us being inferior foreign bugs and all."

Patting her mouth daintily with a napkin, Xelha tittered, "Well, he seemed less concerned with who was paying him, as long as they paid well..."

Lyude sighed. "I'm still sorry we couldn't make use of my old home. The crowd around the speech machine was impenetrable, and with the old street that used to reach it having been closed up while I was gone..." He ran a hand through his hair, speaking more to himself than the others. "Well, it stands to reason people would be concerned about their emperor... And I doubt we would want to risk my siblings returning." He looked back up, catching himself. "But... I do wish you all could have met my nurse."

Xelha smiled warmly. "Lyude, that's very sweet of you. I'm sure we'll get to meet her someday! She sounds like a wonderful woman."

Kalas continued snarfing his shish kebab. "Sure, yeah. But since no one else'll tolerate our presence, I don't think we're gonna get anywhere to stay tonight — so let's get outta here as soon as we can."

"But where will we go?"

Savyna's head snapped up from where she had been staring intently at a particular crack on the ground. "There's a small mining village in the southern Nihal desert, below this city. It's called Azha. If we can navigate the desert, we can make it there. It's somewhat less threatening in terms of citizenry."

Kalas shrugged. "Sounds like the best plan of action, now that the ship's gone. Some bright idea that was," He grumbled as he turned and glared at Gibari, who threw his hands up and laughed.

"It's a diversion!" Gibari crowed. "And a mighty fine one, if I do say so myself. Ever since I was a youngster, I've always been good at messin' with these imperials, y'know."

Savyna's mouth twisted downward and she popped upright abruptly. "We should go."

"Wha—!"

Across from Kalas, Mizuti flailed in midair and Lyude gasped as two decorated soldiers stomped toward their alleyway. Savyna scowled, drawing herself up so that her back was stiff and straight and the toes of her boots pointed ahead. As the soldiers approached she leaned slightly backward, ready to spring without looking too suspicious. Kalas scrambled to his feet, whirling around to grab Xelha's hands and yank her to her feet as well.

"Well, well!" One of the soldiers cried, shaking her long red hair out of her face. "If it's not our very own baby brother, huddled among rats in an alley! How very fitting. Haven't I always said, Skeed, that he has always been a little... ratty?"

Skeed smirked. "I think it's his nose, sister."

Lyude took a shaky step forward. "Brother?" he cried. "Sister?"

Kalas growled, fist clenching around the hilt of his blade. The woman glared at Kalas, and spat, "Don't get any ideas, _foreigner_." She turned back to Lyude and scowled deeply. "And, Lyude, my _dear_ brother? Shut up."

Lyude shut up.

"Now," she said, "Skeed and I have heard that you are conspiring against our gracious Emperor! And we can't have that, now, can we?"

Lyude frowned. "Please... Vallye, we don't want any trouble..."

Vallye snorted. "Oh, but you do. You've been exiled from these lands - did you forget? And after what you did in Diadem, how dare you return?"

Skeed stepped in again. "We can't have you disobeying the orders of the emperor, Lyude; we simply can't."

"Don't you understand, little brother?"

Xelha stepped forward, placing a hand on Lyude's shoulder. He was shaking. "Lyude," she whispered, "please - "

"I just want to know one thing," Lyude said softly. "How... how is Almarde?"

Skeed's mouth twisted downward. "Funny you should ask... why don't we go see her?"

"Skeed, what in the - "

He turned gently to Vallye and lowered his voice. "Sister, listen. Let me make a proposal." He turned back to Lyude and held out his hands, in what could have been construed as a gesture of peace if not for the gun in his hand. "Brother, if you come home, we can find a way to... correct our reputation. Emperor Geldoblame is not an unfair man - "

Everyone at once began to notice Gibari shaking with rage.

Skeed cleared his throat before continuing. "Lyude. Come back with us. You will see your nurse, and we will convince the Emperor of our family's trustworthiness once again."

"At what cost?"

Skeed dropped his arms and retained his grip on his gun. "If you hand them over to us, you may rejoin the empire."

Vallye chuckled. "Cost? He speaks like it's some big production! Perhaps you have gone soft, brother - all that time spent with those cloudfools and their king - is it of some matter to you if these infidels are captured?"

Lyude balked. "They are my friends!"

Vallye cackled. "Friends? They, who plot against our emperor?"

"Our emperor. Our emperor, who plots against the world! What he's up to, it's - "

"No! Shut your mouth!"

" - he's... he's become a madman! Can't you see - "

"Shut up! You've disgraced us once, and now you dare speak against the emperor in the middle of the streets? Must be that filthy, ignorant blood in you; dirty stone carver that you are..."

"Are you trying to have us killed, Lyude?"

"No! I -"

"If you won't leave the criminals behind, then we'll just have to leave you all now."

" - Lyude! My darling!"

Lyude's eyes widened. "... Almarde?"

An older woman hitched up her skirts and came running toward the group. "Skeed, Vallye!" She cried, "What in the world are you doing?"

"Lyude!" Vallye shrieked, raising her gun. "Make your choice! These meaningless fools, our your own brother and sister!"

Lyude's hands shook as he reached for his gun. "Almarde, stay back."

"You maggot!" skeed snarled, taking aim. "I'll kill you where you stand for disgracing us!"

"It's time to erase the stigma! Say goodbye, Lyude!"

"I can't do it..." Lyude muttered frantically, his gun wavering, "I can't shoot my own brother and sister..."

Skeed pulled the trigger; someone else did, too. It was over in an instant; Kalas shouted, yanking Lyude and Xelha back, Gibari and Savyna hurtled in the opposite direction, and Mizuti leaped several feet in the air. Lyude held his breath, felt his eyes squeeze shut, heard Skeed shriek "My arm!" - and fell backward onto Kalas and Xelha. Something splattered into his face. He opened his eyes. Almarde knelt before him, trembling, dark blood staining her petticoats. He threw himself forward to catch her as she dropped. "Almarde? Almarde! No..."

"Darling..." she wheezed, dropping her gun and reaching up to caress his face, "Oh, my darling boy..."

Lyude began to shake.

As everyone began to right themselves and take aim at Skeed and Vallye, the soldiers stiffened abruptly. With a final sneer, they turned and ran.

"Get back here!" Gibari screamed, leaping to his feet. "You cowards, get back here!"

Savyna's hands rose up and hovered in front of her face for a long moment. In the silence between each of Almarde's dying breaths and Lyude's breathless, unbelieving gasps, the group heard the ground begin to tremor. Savyna ran her hands stiffly through her hair. "A tank just passed through," she said simply.

Lyude shook harder, gripping futilely at Almarde's shoulders. Xelha blinked back tears. "Lyude," she said, "where... where is your home? We can take her there..."

Almarde wheezed, pressing a hand to the wound in her chest. "Not far, miss," she whispered.

"Just... around the bend at the speech machine..." Lyude murmured almost inaudibly, as he got to his feet, lifting Almarde up from the dusty, bloody cobblestones. "The crowd must have left. To watch the tank..."

They stumbled as fast as they could to Lyude's home, while trying not to jostle Almarde. Savyna and Kalas trailed behind, watching for other soldiers rearing to attack. When they sensed none, they followed the others into the house, volunteering to keep watch.

Lyude laid Almarde, with a bit of assistance from Gibari, on his sister's bed. He took one of her hands and kissed it, whispering her name. Xelha took her other hand. "Ma'am," she whispered, "is there anything I can do...?"

Almarde raised head very slowly to look at her. "Take care of my baby," she choked. "Take care of my Lyude." Her eyes fell closed. "Lyude..." she muttered, "darling..."

"I'm here." He rubbed her hand between his, kissed her fingers. "I'm here."

"You have..." she took a tiny, shaky breath, "... never been a disgrace to me. Never. Refusing to attack my village... for me... this whole mess..."

"No! It's not your fault! Almarde, don't talk like that!" Lyude moved to cradle Almarde's head in his arms. "Don't, Almarde..."

Her expression, vague and half conscious, somehow steeled. "Emperor Geldoblame... he set off for Azha... just before I came upon you. In the tank. Catch up, Lyude. Stop that vile man..." Tears spilled from her glazing eyes; blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. "Go now, my beautiful child!" She screamed, blood flying from her lips. "_Go!_"

And then the room fell silent.

She was dead.

Lyude stood. There was blood on his face. Gibari stumbled away as he walked to the end of the bed, picked up a blanket, and shook it down over the corpse of his mother. Her blood still gushed, staining the white sheet a deep, dark red in seconds. Xelha bowed her head, unable to hold back her tears, and whispered a solemn prayer. When she was finished, Lyude dropped back to his knees and began to sob.

Savyna and Kalas turned and made their way over to rejoin the group, Savyna click click clicking over in her tall boots and Kalas thudding forward with an uneasy step.

"They'll be coming for us," Savyna said simply, stopping behind Lyude. she raised a hand for a moment as if to lay it on his shoulder, then her eyes flashed and she ran it through her hair again instead.

"Lyude," Kalas said, "We have to go. We've got to follow Geldoblame."

. . .

"'m sweating like a pig," a soldier at the front of the tank complained. "Why couldn't we just - "

Someone who, by the sound of it, was probably wearing very sharp metal gauntlets, bashed on the side of one of the tank's walls, which were evidently quite thin and not at all soundproof.

"Oh shit!" The soldier yelped. "M-my apologies, My Lord, for - for questioning Your Magnificence!"

There was a pause, then another slap to the side of the wall.

"A-and my... crudeness of language?"

The tank hurtled along the sand, making its way out of Mintaka and into Nihal. Citizens cheered and whooped from the city behind it, bidding their leader and his troops bon voyage. Geldoblame felt vaguely sickened by it all. He puffed irritably for a while, short of breath, before realizing that it was the tightness of his bandages wreaking havoc upon him, and shouted for his medic. She rushed over and bowed as deeply as she could inside the tank. "My Liege."

"You've bandaged me too tightly, you graceless little shrew," he growled. "Fix it."

The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and clucked her tongue as she set to work. "My, His Magnificence certainly is cranky today."

Geldoblame scowled. "I will not hesitate to push you under the tank if you try me," he hissed. Ba'nee held back a snicker. She worked quickly, cleaning and re-bandaging the wounds. So far there was no sign of infection, but Geldoblame was pushing himself. Ba'nee knew if he died she would be held responsible, so in an act of self preservation, decided that her only real option was to do what she could to keep him in a semblance of health. That didn't mean she couldn't allow terribly unpatriotic (and thoroughly enjoyable) thoughts of kicking him repeatedly in the gut to meander across her mind once in a while, however.

"Furthermore - _you're doing it again _- "

Ba'nee bit her lip and stifled a chuckle as she reached around the emperor and loosened his new bandages. "My apologies," she lied.

Geldoblame snorted. "Perhaps this is just an excuse to lay your hands on me, hm?" He had meant to tease her, but rather than sounding particularly teasing, he just sounded disgusted. "Ugh," he added, grinding his teeth.

Ba'nee shuddered. "I... share your sentiments, Emperor."

Geldoblame straightened, testing the new bandages. "Well," he grunted, "this is far less atrocious than last time, at least." He removed his gauntlets and cracked his knuckles, sighing harshly. His joints ached. He laid his hands out on the control board before him and distastefully examined his gnarled hands.

"My emperor," Ba'nee interjected, "there are supplements you can take for your joint pains. They -"

"I don't want any of that," Geldoblame growled. "I'll have all I need soon enough." He turned back to her, fingers twitching on the dash. "Tell them to move faster. I want to be back before night falls completely."

Ba'nee bowed. "As my lord wishes."

As the machina clanked and steamed and howled, Geldoblame smoothed has hands through his hair and tried to ignore the nervous, exhilarated pounding in his breast.

Yes, now was as good a time as it ever would be.


	6. Chapter 5

{ **A**/**N**: things are going to start getting intense this chapter! one could even say that things are going to... HEAT UP. you know. because of the lava caves. B)

YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

... ok i will admit right now that i have a huge problem with puns and you probably will me making far, far too many in the future, especially when it is ENTIRELY INAPPROPRIATE to be doing so dlsfjldksjf }

**ADSUM**  
_**chapter five**_

. . .

_I keep running and I don't know why,_  
_ I see my demons and I just can't hide,_  
_ Saying oh, I wanna let go..._

Fenech-Soler - Demons

. . .

As Geldoblame stepped down from the tank, he was not entirely perturbed to hear cries of anguish and outrage from the Azhani. He smirked at their uncivilized impudence as he pulled a hood over his head, obscuring his face in a veil of silk. It simply would not do to have another assassination attempt on his hands, after all.

"What are soldiers doing here?" someone screamed. "Get out! Get _out_ of here, you bastards!"

"Leave us_ alone!_"

A soldier jabbed his shining, gilded bayonet at the crowd. "Just shut up and get back to work!" he snarled, brandishing his weapon. "Get out of the way!"

Paying them no mind, Geldoblame strode to the man guarding the entrance to the caverns. "Step aside," he said pleasantly, resting a hand casually on his hip.

"Who do you think you are?" the man growled, throwing his arms up to block the entrance. "Only workers and authorized personnel are allowed into the Lava Caves!"

A sharply clawed hand shot out to grip the man by the jaw, turning him to face its master. Geldoblame peered intently at the man from behind his gauzy coif. "Step aside," he said again, the same eerily pleasant tone accompanied by the digging of his knifelike fingers into the man's skin. As tiny droplets of blood formed beneath Geldoblame's fingertips, the man quivered, but retained a defiant look as Geldoblame released him and stepped forward. As he began to slink away, the man made a sound deep in his throat, turned back, and spat onto the spot where Geldoblame had been standing.

Geldoblame turned slowly to face him again and quirked an eyebrow. "That was unwise," he said calmly. "Terribly unwise."

A flick of one hand, a nearly imperceptible gesture, and two soldiers tackled the man into the dirt as Geldoblame retreated further into the cave, listening uninterestedly to the man's shrieks of rage and pain and the villagers' indignant screams. "Come along!" he called to the soldiers. "Leave him. I'm sure he was a fine guardsman before this moment — but, you see, I doubt how well one can guard a place with so very many bruised and broken bones as he has acquired. Post someone of our ranks to guard the entrance."

"Yes, Your Graciousness!"

. . .

The air seemed to shimmer in the heat, and Xelha flinched as stinging sweat dripped into her eyes.

"How far to the village?" Gibari called from somewhere behind her, shaking sweat from his hair.

Savyna, leading the group, said nothing.

"Hey, Savyna?"

Her head jerked back suddenly; it was as if she had forgotten they were there. "Not far," she grunted, cracking her knuckles.

Panting, Lyude added, "If you look, you can see the tips of the towers the Azhani make their homes in." He coughed and wiped his eyes.

"Sand castles," Xelha thought she heard Savyna murmur.

"What?"

"... Keep going; we're close."

Xelha tucked her hand beneath her collar, feeling for the pendant and abruptly remembering that it was no longer there. She sighed, blinking hard again as a gust threw what seemed like a whole sand dune into her face. Struggling against the wind to keep up with the others, she rooted around under her sash and pulled out her handkerchief, holding it to her face for a moment, breathing in the scent of linen and chamomile that she had grown up with for a comforting second before countless grains of sand whirled around her face again. Her eyes watered and burned.

And then the wind seemed to stop. She lifted her head cautiously to squint in front of her, met by the sight of a billowing Imperial issue overcoat. "Lyude — ?" she tried to gasp, but her gratitude was still choked with hot air and sand.

_He's protecting me_, she thought. _Walking in front of me like that, he means to shield me from the sand... why?_

She held her handkerchief tightly over her nose and mouth and took in another small, comforting breath as the sand whipped vengefully around the group. "O Mighty Ocean..." she whispered, and felt a sudden pang, deep in her heart, as a faint, ethereal voice whispered back.

She hoped Kalas had felt it, too.

. . .

The magma beasts howled and pranced in front of Geldoblame and his throng of soldiers, swiping at them with their claws and lashing their tails like whips. The soldiers eliminated them easily enough, leaving them dead before they even hit the ground, spraying their molten lifeblood across the walls of the caves. Geldoblame shrugged and rolled his shoulders, shifting the rifle on his back. The weight of it was somehow comforting, weighing him down, holding him fast to reality. It would be disastrous to think himself invincible now, he knew, but vanity had always been very tantalizing to him. He suppressed the urge to preen silently after a while — after all, he could not afford to lose himself, not know, not when he was so close to his goal and yet still so, so very far away.

Twenty more feet.

Fifteen.

Ten.

Five.

Three.

He faltered somewhat.

Two and a half.

"Emperor Geldoblame... are you well?"

Geldoblame gritted his teeth. "Silence." He was beginning to feel the heat pressing down around him and the throbbing in his ribs again, but as he made the final steps toward the cavern, it was as if his wounds had healed and his sweat evaporated, leaving him cold and stiff. He stopped moving and the soldiers around him stiffened to attention. He blinked. His eyes felt dry. He breathed. His lungs felt weak. His knees trembled.

He took another step forward, gently prodding a soldier in front of him in the small of the back. "Ready your guns," he growled. A soldier behind him shouldered his own gun and lifted the heavy rifle from his back, guiding it into his hands. A few clicks sounded from the medics as they prepare their pistols.

"We are going to kill the guardian of the final End Magnus!" Geldoblame shouted. "And we are going to do it correctly, or we are going to die." He surveyed the group around him as they made the final steps through the threshold into the deepest parts of the caverns. "I will be highly disappointed if your incompetence gets me killed. Am I understood?"

The group saluted and bowed shakily, unsure.

Geldoblame bared his teeth. "Am I _understood?_"

Before they had the chance to make a more respectful affirmative, the pendant around Geldoblame's throat flared to life and lit him up in blindingly white light like a beacon. He raised an arm to shield his eyes, then lowered it. "It knew this was the place," he murmured over the keening tone of the pendant, more to himself than to the others. With a satisfied smirk, he ripped the pendant off and tossed it backwards. "No longer do we need this!" he announced, retaining his grip on his rifle. "The final End Magnus has been unsealed. Ready yourselves, now!"

The burbling of the lava intensified; rocks from the walls and floor of the cavern crumbled into the chasm around it. The group tensed.

"Your arrival has been foretold," a voice rasped, echoing loudly off the walls over the bubbling of the lava. "A thousand years of slumber thou hath disturbed, grief-stricken one. Thou hath awakened the fearsome might of old."

Geldoblame snorted. "Yes, yes," he crowed as the owner of the voice rose to hoist itself over the lip of the wall. "But why don't we get on with it?" He leveled his rifle and fingered the trigger. The soldiers behind him did the same.

The Lord of the Lava Caves lowered its head and raised its flaming tail. "Prepare to face the fury," it hissed, "of a God."

As it finished its spiel, a fat bullet whizzed by its gills and slammed into the rock above it; rocks came crashing down onto its head, dazing it, and a sizable boulder pinned one of its fins to the floor. Geldoblame snarled. "_Imbeciles!_ Are you trying to cause a cave in?" he screamed. "Shoot the _beast,_ not the walls!"

He lined up his sights quickly, aiming for the creature's thick throat, and let a round fly. The recoil rocked him; in his youth he had never been a fighter, even still he never sought to fight or brawl, but as new technologies were developed under his rule, he had become lovingly familiar with their workings.

The creature howled as the bullet met its target, and a spray of blood doused the rocky ground beneath it. A couple of soldiers whooped. Firing again, Geldoblame realized for the first time in a long time that he was positively _giddy_.

. . .

As she staggered into the village, Xelha's first impression of Azha was one of breathtaking sorrow.

Adults were bent double in the streets carrying loads of ore while children knelt in the dirt and starved, the cleanest parts of them the tear tracks running down their cheeks. Xelha lowered her eyes to the ground, watching her feet scuff through the sand and the dirt and the shrapnel of past battle fought - unfair battles, shameful battles. Massacres.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Savyna stumble in the sand, the pointed heels of her boots twisting for just a fraction of a second. She raised her eyes once again, and a look she had never seen before flashed in Savyna's eyes; she was reminded somehow of Gram and Leon, and the looks in their eyes as the dropped her off in the Imperial Capital, the looks of half-realized terror upon coming face to face with the hissing, howling machina and the sound of the emperor's voice for the first time. The flash of something had departed just as quickly as it had come, though, and before anyone had noticed her stumble, Savyna was fine again, standing taller than anyone.

The others were more visibly affected. Kalas's scowl was enough to make one of the soldiers meandering around take a few steps back; Gibari's usual kind, upbeat aura had plunged into a sea of churning ire. Slinking to the back of the group was Lyude, enveloped in the tragedy that swirled, nearly tangible in the hot, gusting air of his late mother's once-village. Xelha knew by the lag of Mizuti's movements that she was feeling the atmosphere as clearly, if not more, than Xelha herself was.

Someone screamed, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Murderer!" There was a little girl standing in ramshackle doorway of one of the houses, the sandcastles, tears forming in her tired eyes as she pointed at Savyna. "_Murderer!_" she screamed again, voice high warbling through repressed tears, and ran back inside, nearly tangling herself the strip of cheesecloth that served as a door as she fled.

The group halted. Xelha's eyes turned back to Savyna, and she tried not to look too suspicious when Savyna felt her gaze and met her eyes straight on and said simply, "... It's not something I'm proud of."

"Huh?" Kalas spun around, his cape flying out behind him as a gust of wind pulled at it. "What's going on, Savyna?"

Lyude's mouth twisted into a scowl as he turned to face her. "I think I know," he said darkly.

Savyna's face remained unchanged. "Tell them, then," she said, her tone soft and yet harsh, as if daring him. "Tell them."

Lyude nodded sharply. "Azha was once a village well known for its mining of iron ore. The ore was mined from the Lava Caves and shipped to Mintaka. But..." he cast his eyes downward. "About a year ago, Azha had to reduce its ore shipments to the capital a great deal. The Lava Caves, as you will no doubt come to see, are the closest thing to Hell in this world, and the people of Azha spend day after day after day toiling in their depths.

"Many complaints were filed about the harsh working conditions were filed, but they were completely ignored. People were dying left and right, from fatigue and accidents caused by that fatigue. Their suffering is something I cannot even comprehend, but the Emperor wrote it off as laziness, as defiance. He was enraged, and called for his army to execute all dissidents as a warning. "Kill the troublemakers to spark up a little motivation," was the order, if I recall correctly.

"I objected to the order, but the ideals of one young man were nothing to the Emperor. He stood before me and laughed in my face and reduced my family name to street filth in mere seconds, and then he carried out the mission as planned. That mission was known as Operation Sweep." Lyude heaved a long sigh. "Now this village is... well, just look around."

Savyna closed her eyes, resting a hand on her hip. "I carried out the operation myself," she said bluntly. "We wiped out all those in opposition to the Emperor."

"What?" Kalas snarled, bristling and stomping forward, his teeth bared. Savyna ignored him.

"You were the head of the Mad Wolf Unit," Lyude said slowly, and beneath his anger, Xelha heard a stinging, burning sort of sadness, the sort that came with deception. "You... you were Lady Death."

Savyna's silence said more than she ever could have.

"The Emperor spoke once, just before the mission was carried out, of his "Alpha." Of the one his soldiers called "killing machine." Of the "leader of the pack," the one that "taught his cubs to hunt."" Lyude's hands balled into fists. "Is that who you were? Geldoblame's darling Lady Death?"

"Savyna..." Gibari's said levelly, trying to assert some control over the situation. Xelha was glad for his composure, and she was sure Savyna was, too. "Is this true?"

When Savyna stayed silent, Kalas stepped in again. "Hey," he said suddenly, his ire dying down a bit, "hold up a minute. You told us back in Anuenue that you _weren't_ an Imperial Soldier."

Savyna broke her silence. "Because I no longer am," she said simply. "That's all in the past."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Kalas demanded.

"... It's not something I'm proud of," Savyna repeated.

Kalas's frown deepened, and he turned away, his cape flaring out behind him so much that Savyna had to take a step back to avoid being whipped with it.

_Kalas,_ a voice said distantly, _now is not the time for this._

Xelha spoke for the first time since they had arrived, voice small and hoarse. "Besnik is right," she said. "Let's... let's not talk about it anymore." Savyna's gaze fluttered back up to meet hers, and the look in her eyes - beautiful blue-gray eyes like pools of clouded oasis water (so rare in Alfard) and had seen far too much in too little time - made Xelha's heart feel like it was about to break. "Let's just focus on getting to the Lava Caves," she continued. "Geldoblame could be unsealing the last End Magnus as we speak, or worse..."

. . .

It had been going well.

It had been going swimmingly, in fact, until the Lord of the Lava Caves was on its last limb. Sensing its impending demise, it shrieked once, long and loud, and brought down chunks of rock all around itself, obscuring its tender underbelly from further attack. A couple of unfortunate men hadn't had the time to stumble out of the way and had been crushed. One was dead. The other, unable to do anything but scream and sob and struggle, was useless. Two out of four unlucky medics were dead and healing supplies were not to be wasted; the soldier was shot in the head once, out of either mercy or impatience with his screams, and that was that.

The beast continued to thrash, slamming soldiers into the burning walls, with their rivulets of dripping, pooling lava, and rending their blackened, melting bodies with its huge, knifelike appendages.

Somewhere to Geldoblame's right, Azdar launched himself back, bracing himself against a fallen boulder, and unleashed his final clip, peppering it with bullets, trying in vain to shatter some of its armor. "Emperor, we're low on ammunition!"

Geldoblame snarled, trying to catch his breath. He did not consider himself as having been made to move as quickly as he'd been forced to in the last hour or so, and he had a distressing hunch that the growing dampness of his bandages was not due to perspiration. "Kill it," he gasped. "Just kill it, you fool."

Azdar scowled, strafing further right, looking for a foothold in the fortification the beast had built around itself. He turned briefly to the remaining party and signaled to cover him before discarding his gun, unsheathing his scimitar, and running forward. There was nothing to do now but kill or be killed. He jumped, feet scuffing against the side of the rock; he was going to fall. With a snarl, Azdar threw his weight forward and found purchase; he refused to die here. The beast looked briefly at him, unsurprised or indifferent or just plain stupid - had it given up? And then he brought the broad, sharp tip of his blade into its lower chest, just below its breastbone, and felt with satisfaction his blade sink deep into its body, piercing and slicing and ruining. He leaped back as the blood began to spray and hit the ground, feet already scrambling, propelling him back. The beast howled again, this time softer, weaker than before, and swayed. Azdar watched it for a moment. It had one foot - _or was that one flipper?_ he thought asininely - in the grave, but it wasn't done in quite yet.

Something was not right.

Azdar sprinted back to the small group. "He's faking us out," he barked. "Get down, get defending. Something's coming..."

Geldoblame sneered. "Nonsense. He's wavering. One final round, and - "

Azdar brought himself up to his full height. He towered over Geldoblame and growled, gesturing to the others, "The minute one of these guns fires, it's as good killed us all."

Geldoblame was filled with a burst of righteous, prideful anger - who was this lummox to question him, to _emasculate_ him like this? - but a rumble from the creature and a blazing cascade racing toward him left nothing to do but scramble to keep himself from bursting into flames. He crouched and drew his cape around himself, feeling some aura spark to life to keep the fires at bay as a roar like a speeding freight liner engulfed him and his ears rang and his head pounded and in the wake of his hasty crouch his wounds split and rivulets of blood streamed down his sides and soaked his clothes.

When the heat died down and he was fully assuaged as to the fact that moving would not warrant premature cremation, Geldoblame struggled to his feet and surveyed the damage.

Another soldier was dead, along with another medic. The insufferable witch with the inability to bandage was left swaying uncertainly, backed by a sergeant Geldoblame vaguely recognized as being the rather pretty, stuttering fool he so enjoyed tormenting on occasion. He was favoring one arm as he helped another soldier to his feet. Azdar had already unfolded from his defensive position and was standing, watching the creature. He turned back to Geldoblame.

"Now we can finish him," he announced.

Geldoblame grabbed the sergeant by his good arm and pressed his rifle into his hands. "You," he barked. "You're a fine marksman, I'm sure."

"M-my arm -" the soldier protested; "I can't lift this - "

"Oh, but you _will._"

Shaking, Nadir hoisted the gun up. Geldoblame noted with satisfaction the remaining medic quivering with rage at the torment of her precious beau. "Go on," he murmured, voice husky. "Give it a nice transorbital lobotomy."

Nadir's increased quaking signified that he had no clue of what he had just been ordered to do. Geldoblame snorted, thoroughly unimpressed. "Shoot it in the eye," he hissed, knocking the gun impatiently in the direction of the beast's head and pressing a hand to his wet, agonized wounds futilely.

Nadir fired.

Geldoblame followed the trajectory, not daring to breathe. The bullet met its target, tearing into one of the creature's huge, black marble eyes, and it let out a tremendous roar as it fell, impaling itself through the skull on jagged rocks in a splatter of blood and already-rotting meat.

"NO!" someone screamed, and he whirled around in rage an confusion to face them.

It was the girl, the theif, clutching the useless pendant and staring at him with fierce, fiery eyes. "Please!" she screamed, "_Stop!_"

Anger dying down quickly, geldoblame could do nothing but laugh. Laugh at the dying godling, laugh at the stupid girl, laugh at the massacred corpses all around him,

laugh,

laugh,

_laugh_.


	7. Chapter 6

{ **A**/**N**: hello once again, dear readers! it's been a while! concerning this chapter, i am going to put up a little warning right now for some violence. it isn't agonizingly detailed or anything, but i wanted to have a warning for it just in case! }

**ADSUM**  
_**chapter six**_

. . .

"_Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love._"  
**–John LeCarre**

. . .

"You're too late!" Geldoblame shouted, turning away from the group that has emerged at the mouth of the cavern and projecting his voice as if he is simply giving another speech to simple peasants. "The final End Magnus has been released."

The girl's face fell. From beside Geldoblame, Azdar tensed. "Savyna? What are you doing here?"

Geldoblame continued, turning to face Lady Death and her new little cutpurse friend with a bemused, benign expression on his face. "I'm afraid you're too late." He drew a deep, serene breath and lay his arm across his chest, fist over his heart, as if he were about to bow to her. Then he raised his arms slowly, palms facing the ceiling, feeling and yet not feeling his wounds stinging and tearing open, and raised his voice. "The time has come."

"_The gate to He will be opened..._" A voice rumbled, shaking the cavern. "_Behold: the Curse of Malpercio..._"

"Open, great door of darkness," Geldoblame howled; "awaken, ancient god of destruction —"

"Stop!"

"— _shower your eternal power upon me!_"_  
_

"No! Please! Stop!" She was crying out before she could stop herself, before something in the back of her mind could tell her that it was useless. "_Stop!_" she screamed over the sinister bubbling of the lava and his gritty, horrible laughter, and leaped forward, her hands outstretched as if she meant to push him back.

And then the light starts flashing, brilliant and bright white and blinding, and she couldn't look away. She was still screaming as her shaking hands readied her magnus and she _did_ push him back — blasted him off his feet, in fact, away from the gods' putrid breath — but she was too late. He howled like a wounded, raging animal, and between bursts of light she saw him stumble and hurl himself gracelessly onto the ground, unable to brace himself. He convulsed, mouth foaming, screaming wordlessly, mindlessly, as his limbs jerked like rubber and his eyes bugged nearly out of their sockets. Smoke erupted from the corpse of the Guardian and enveloped him, as if it meant to strangle him, and she blasted that back, too. She could not let this happen. She would not let this happen. She had to —

— but Corellia felt it in every fiber of her being when the gods' castle shattered its way into reality, and she ached with the knowledge that the broken man she so stupidly thought had been fixed had finally shattered, and taken all of them with him. All she could hear was screaming, and she could not tell from where it was coming.

She rushed for a carriage, flying down the hundred stairs from her throne room with inhuman grace. Her kimono fluttered around her ankles, blue and white and silver, like seafoam, like water, like the ocean that would never be able to return —

— and all of a sudden the winds were changing; King Ladekhan felt the gusts like never before as they swirled around his throne, and he rushed to the Mindeer where it howled and bucked in its reins. Something was wrong; he peered out into the sky, but before he could focus his eyes on — _What in the world _is_ that?_ — another fierce gust blew a wall of thick, whirling clouds in front of him and he stumbled backward.

But then the clouds cleared at last, and Ladekhan finally saw it.

From the rent wounds of the sky emerged Cor Hydrae, along with a gale of shrieking demons and a whirling, potent, poisinous aura.

The world went dark, and the clouds enveloped Ladekhan again as he bit back a scream.

.

The echo of footsteps hammered through the cavern as six people entered. Geldoblame writhed, barely able to retain control of his body.

"Why, Your Magnificence!" a sweet, saccharine voice crooned, "The five End Magnus... did you really think that they would add up to a dead god?"

Xelha stumbled backward. "Melodia?"

Melodia paid her no mind, happily focused on taunting Geldoblame. "Oh, my _dear_ Emperor!" she continued, shaking her head slowly from side to side, "Oh, you poor, naïve fool. The five End Magnus are the remains of five _separate_ gods, each part taken from the body of a different god... Upon resurrection, Malpercio will be but a gruesome patchwork of divine limbs and body parts, fused together in torment." Melodia's eyes were alight. "Exquisite," she crooned reverently. "It will be so _beautiful_..."

Geldoblame coughed, a gravelly whooping sound, and struggled to sit up. "Melodia..." he gasped. "What are you...?"

Melodia's expression grew fierce. "Would you have thought, _Your Magnificence_," she spat, "that a mere mortal such as yourself could withstand the touch of such a being? That the gods' delirium and rage would leave _you alone_ unscathed?"

Geldoblame collapsed again and twisted violently to look up at her. "You..." he shrieked, his deep voice suddenly high and tense, "You, of all people, Melodia! _You_ have deceived me!" his voice seemed to waver.

Melodia smiled. "That's not a very nice thing to say!" she feigned a pained expression as took a few small steps forward and halted in front of him. Slowly, she dropped to her knees before him, and took his face in her hands. "You only have yourself to blame," she explained gently, gripping his skull in a vise.

"Melodia," he choked again, eyes locked to hers. "Why have you done this?"

Melodia smiled darkly. "Spare me, Geldoblame," she hissed, and his mouth twisted into a silent scream.

"Your help was invaluable in releasing the five End Magnus..." Melodia went on, "But I am afraid you have outlived your usefulness — and now, I would like to bid you goodbye, Emperor Geldoblame," she cooed, fingernails scraping down his face, subtly tearing his skin. He felt the wounds as they opened, felt the tiny scratches and scrapes that stung in the blistering heat.

"There's no need to worry, now!" she cackled as she rose. "I will take good care of the End Magnus."

Geldoblame's arm shot out in a violent spasm and he gripped her by the ankle; she wavered, looking for in instant feral, then kicked him hard in the face. Geldoblame felt his nose break; blood gushed over and into his mouth, and he spat it onto her white clothes as she stepped away, painting her false pureness with a spray of red.

"Fadroh," Melodia hissed, "would you like to try again?"

Geldoblame gurgled and choked, straining to look for his general. "Fadroh?"

Fadroh advanced quietly, head bowed. He looked at Geldoblame for a moment, and then said softly, "... Yes, Lady Melodia. I would."

He signaled to his men, who raised their guns and cocked them with simultaneous harsh clicks. Fadroh took a step closer. Geldoblame spat out another mouthful of blood at his feet. Fadroh signaled again, a different gesture this time — one Geldoblame recognized well — and took one last step forward: a heavy stomp onto Geldoblame's chest. Geldoblame bit his lip hard, teeth sinking into flesh, and groaned through yet another mouthful of blood. Bullets pierced the ground around him, and he dared not to move. Fadroh raised his head and stared straight ahead as bullets flew around him.

"Are you trying to scare me?" Geldoblame hissed weakly, chest heaving beneath Fadroh's weight. Fadroh leaned forward, letting his boots bite deeper into Geldoblame's chest, letting his weight rest more heavily on his lungs. Geldoblame wheezed, trying to thrash. His ribs were going to —

Melodia giggled from somewhere behind them, her delight apparent as Fadroh bounced slightly on Geldoblame's torso — Geldoblame drew in a gasp as he felt one of his ribs crack — before descending back to the ground and turning to bow to her.

Geldoblame turned his eyes beyond Melodia and Fadroh and their entourage, but he could not focus them. His vision was blurry, clouded. "Melodia..." he moaned again, barely audible through a mouthful of blood. She turned away from him, facing the group that had arrived too late to stop the release of the final End Magnus.

"Enough deception!" she cried briskly. "You have done well. Everything has progressed smoothly. "Her voice carried the hint of a sugary smile as she announced: "You may step forward and claim your reward, as we agreed."

The group reacted ardently, shouting of traitors and lies, ordering the traitor to give himself up. Geldoblame recognized Savyna's voice among the tumult and forced his eyes open, pinpointing her only by the vague smudges of color that were her bright plumage and boots.

"No! Wait, everyone —" It was the other girl again, the little golden-haired theif. Geldoblame recognized her voice well, the nasal lilt of it that he could not place as being from any of the five islands.

And then there was a small blur of blue and gray, and another voice, more mature than he had heard in in years, but suddenly unmistakable —

"It's me. _I_ worked together with Melodia."

It was his little flightless bird.

The girl, a small pink spot on his vision, seemed to shrink into herself, golden head dropping and hands rising up to cover her face. "No..."

Shouts from the group exploded like firecrackers over the bubbling of the lava as Melodia watched on in passive glee.

"Kalas?"

"Why?"

"This can't be..."

"Kalas lied to the Great Mizuti?"

"So, it was you..."

Kalas strides forward to face his group. Geldoblame closes his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing and take the pain from his ribs.

"Kalas, you're not serious, are you?"

Kalas's voice is harsh as he barks, "I'm _dead_ serious."

Geldoblame listened to the stories of treachery Kalas had to expound upon with no other choice until he began to flirt with unconsciousness and his hearing began to fail. Through the foggy droning in the caverns, he heard Melodia again:

"I would advise you all to behave yourselves... unless you want me to unleash the full might of Malpercio — right here, right now."

The sounds become a blur again.

"Kalas... crazy ... right?"

"Besnik ... this ... ?"

" ... Didn't know ... at all ... refused to cooperate ... memory loss ... "I will completely forget..."'

Geldoblame blinked slowly, catching glimpses of the soldiers of Melodia's entourage closing in on the group.

"The spell ... Sadal Suud ... you remember ... ?"

Their guns are at the ready. Geldoblame wonders if she will kill them. He wonders if she will kill _him_.

"It's too late..." Kalas says resolutely. "I can't go back anymore. I would have done anything to avenge Gramps and Fee. Anything..."

The End Magnus rose and began to circle around him, looking somehow more predatory than the soldiers fingering their triggers ever could.

"I needed the power... I wanted to be stronger... I needed the power of a spirit. I needed you."

Geldoblame's head was pounding. He turned it gingerly to the side, letting blood drip from his mouth to the ground.

"... But it's all over now."

He had the strange sensation that he was drowning. Words and voices became fuzzy again.

"Accept reality... go back to where you _belong_ ...!"

"Step forward, Kalas," Melodia ordered, her voice once again bringing Geldoblame hurtling back from the very edge of unconsciousness. "And become what you have always dreamed to be. Free your mind, and let the power of the End Magnus take control. Allow yourself to be touched by the breath of god... and you will finally be reborn!"

"No! Kalas! Don't touch it!" The blonde girl screamed.

"What is it you fear?" Melodia demanded.

"Kalas! No!"

"Your Guardian Spirit will protect you... _You_, Kalas, need not fear the madness and anger of Malpercio."

"_Stop!_"

"You must believe, Kalas! Believe in the power of Malpercio!"

"Please, stop!"

The girl was still screaming, but she was too late yet again.

Geldoblame's eyes widened, focusing briefly on Kalas as he calls the End Magnus to him and the same flashing, white-hot light that had touched Geldoblame for only the briefest of seconds enveloped Kalas fully, creating a ball of shrieking, burning power around him. It blinded him, but Geldoblame could not look away; he blinked away the blindness frantically and through the imprints that the bolts of lightning had left, he watched as fully formed, pure white wings unfolded from Kalas's back in a burst of feathers and light.

"I'm complete!" Kalas screamed.

"Yes..." Melodia gasped, "My dear Kalas...!"

The girl collapsed to her knees. Geldoblame thought he heard her sob.

"This is the beginning of a new era!" Melodia shrieked. "A holy war shall be upon us! Malpercio is awakening!"

Kalas began to laugh, insane and deranged and ringing painfully in Geldoblame's ears alongside the shriek and hum of the End Magnus, and —

Geldoblame could take it no longer.

He let unconsciousness spirit him away.

. . .

The remaining medic was half-buried beneath the other dead soldiers, and she lay there for a while, forgetting that she could barely feel her legs. She listened for what felt like an hour, but was really only fifteen minutes, for the sounds of murmuring and footsteps to dissipate, and then for another fifteen-minute hour just to be certain. They had taken Nadir; playing dead, she had watched him reluctantly bolt from the cavern at gunpoint, carrying the blonde girl over his shoulder.

When all she could hear was the sound of Geldoblame's labored breathing and the bubbling of lava, Ba'nee slowly, slowly began to worm her way out from beneath the corpses.

Ba'nee stood, teetering precariously on pins and needles, and commended her cowardice. After quickly asserting her ability to stand as satisfactory, she scanned the stinking mound of dead men and found Geldoblame._ Is he going to make it?_

Gingerly, she pinched the eyelashes of his left eye between thumb and forefinger and peered into it. His eyes had not glazed over and he was still breathing; she could tell by just looking at him, however, that his stitches had long ago ripped, and guessed that Fadroh had broken or cracked one or more of his ribs. But he was alive, and it was her job to keep him that way. It had been ever since she first stumbled out of the elevator to find him laying there in a lake of his own blood. It was her job to keep him alive then, because who else would lead Alfard? And it was her job to keep him alive now, because who else could take Alfard back from whatever hell had been unleashed upon it?

She shuffled through her magnus before finding the card she needed and unsealing it: a crutch. It would have to do for now, to brace him, for she couldn't very well wheel him out on a gurney - not yet, not in the middle of Azha. If they made it out, she would put him on the gurney, she decided. _If_. But at that moment, she needed to disguise him. They would simply be a pair of injured soldiers, huddled and hobbling together for the trek back to Mintaka, drawing little attention if all went smoothly.

She began to do everything as if in a trance. With sweaty, shaking hands, Ba'nee took a dead man's head in her hands and removed his helmet, pointedly not looking into his ruptured eyesockets. Pulling her sleeve up over her fist, she wiped the half-dried viscera from the helmet's visor to the best of her ability. Gently tipping his head forward, she fitted it onto the emperor. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and, as deftly as she could, began to tear off the insignia on Geldoblame's clothes and peel away the golden adornments. She placed the gold in the inner pockets of her jacket, and without knowing exactly why, hid away a small imperial crest there as well.

Still moving as though in slow motion, she set about trying to lift Geldoblame up, pulling one of his arms over her shoulders and bolstering his other side with the crutch beneath his other arm. In one desperate movement, she flung herself forward, pulling the heavy man to his feet and praying he would stay there.

"Move," she pleaded, inching toward the exit of the cavern. "Walk with me." She pulled on his arm, nudged at his feet. "_Move._"

He lurched forward, gripping the crutch with whitened and splitting knuckles.

"It's not far." Ba'nee lied. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and she told herself that it was that stinging sensation that was making the tears stream down her cheeks, coming unbidden so much like the endless lies tumbling from her lips. "We'll be out in no time."

Geldoblame did not reply.

"No time at all," Ba'nee sobbed.


End file.
